


Swing-sets and Lunch Boxes

by jcknwng



Category: Duncan Lane / Warren Okrasa
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcknwng/pseuds/jcknwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warren Okrasa is very pleased with his job. He's a Kindergarten teacher like he's always wanted to be. But there's one boy in his class that causes more trouble than most. And when Warren calls in the kids' dad, he sees just where he gets it from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swing-sets and Lunch Boxes

"Yenny, more tea sir?" 

Warren gave the young girl in front of him a warm smile, holding out the tiny teacup that was in his hand. "Why yes please, Miss Isabel." He held his smile as the little girl in front of him carefully poured thin air from the bright green plastic teapot, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on not spilling any. When satisfied that Warren's cup was full, she gently placed the teapot onto the floor before picking up her own cup. 

"After this, I must dash as I have groceries." She chirped, bringing the teacup to her lips and sticking out her pinky finger before she tipped it. He mirrored her actions, placing his cup down on the plate in front of him - the plate that matched the bright green of the teapot and cups. "That's absolutely fine, I should probably head back to my garden anyway. See how my roses are doing." At this thought, Isabel smiled brightly at him. 

If there was anything he most enjoyed about his day, it would be his tea parties with Isabel Sanchez. The little girl was the most pleasant out of his class. She always said please and thank you and made sure that her peers did the same. She was also the brightest in his class, taking charge of teaching the other children how to read. While hers was still shaky, it was brilliant for her age. It still amazed him how a six year old could be so advanced. 

His thoughts were only cemented as she stood and began to put away her toys, stacking the plates and cups up before placing them back in the picnic basket. Warren rose to his feet, mentally cursing himself for sitting for so long, his knee whining as pressure was put onto it. He was 28 and sure his joints shouldn't feel so achey. He blamed it on the children, making him feel much older than he actually was. 

His class had 10 children, and they were all wonderful in their own ways. Although recently, there were a few who had caught his eye with their bad behaviour. Alistair Lane, for one, had been on his radar on more than one occasion. Nothing that had been cause for concern just yet, though, luckily. In his history of teaching, he'd only once had to remove someone from his class due to bad behaviour. And he'd only maybe held two or three meetings with parents based on concerns about his pupils. 

Warren was more than grateful for this. 

Although the thought lasted all of two seconds before he heard a high pitched scream, followed by another noise that Warren instantly identified as crying. He made his way to the source of the noise, frowning as he took in the sight. His first move was to the crying child, who he instantly put a name to. Devon Josai - the son of his childhood best friend. Warren carefully picked up the curly haired boy, who clung to him in a way that reminded Warren of a koala bear. His attention then turned to the mousy haired boy who had the smuggest expression Warren had ever seen in a six year old. 

"I'm not smiling, Alistair. Go inside and sit on the naughty chair. I think we need to have a word with your father." 

Once the words had left Warren's mouth, Alistair's face fell. He didn't waste another second before trudging inside to do as he was told. 

Warren then focused on trying to stop the sobbing bundle in his arms from doing just that. 

~~

Alistair hadn't apologised. Despite Warren asking him to several times. So he'd made the call. To a Mr Duncan Lane - as the records had said. Alistair's father didn't seem particularly angered over the fact he'd been called into the school due to his son's behaviour. But then again, Warren had yet to meet someone who took their six year old's attitude as seriously as he did. Warren felt it was a key stage in their life. But perhaps he was far too passionate about it. 

And anyway, he didn't actually think any parent should be angry at their children. So he didn't dwell on it. 

The children had left for the day, all except Alistair who was waiting in the opposite classroom with Mrs Fletcher. He'd taken a seat at his desk, idly flicking through the pictures he'd been given today. Pictures of cats and dogs, of Warren with a smile. His walls at home were littered with drawings from previous classes. When this lot left him, he'd find a space on one of the walls for his favourite ones. Soon these kids would be adults, like him, and they'd do wonderful things. It was why he did this job in the first place. 

"Mr Okrasa, Mr Lane is here." Warren turned his head to smile at the small blonde haired woman - Amanda from the reception desk. Her hair was in pigtails, which fell either side of her shoulders, and her glasses always seemed to slip down her nose. As if hearing his thoughts, Amanda pushed her spectacles further onto her face before standing to the side to let in Alistair's father. Warren had already stood from his seat, and was walking to meet the other male. 

Well at least Warren knew where Alistair got the smug little smile from - heck, he didn't know if it was even intentionally smug anymore. 

"Mr Lane, it's nice to meet you, but in unfortunate circumstances."

"Hi. The circumstances could be worse." He offered a smile anyway, as well as shaking the hand that had been extended to him. Warren gestured to the chair in front of his desk, before returning to his own. Mr Lane sat down quietly, meeting Warren's gaze. 

"Mr Lane-"

"Duncan."

Warren blinked at him - it sounded so informal. Warren wasn't sure if he liked it. 

"Sorry, Duncan, I've called you in just to speak to you about Alistair-"

"I'll have a word with him."

"Well - thank you, yes, that would be good - but wouldn't you like to know what he's done?" Warren was confused. The times he'd spoken to parents about their children, they'd been a lot more open for his explanation beforehand. He struggled to keep a frown from his face as he was met with a shrug. 

"My son misbehaved. And so I will explain that he's not to do so again. I don't think I need the gory details." Duncan flashed another smile at Warren, who could feel prickly heat creeping onto his cheeks. He felt sassed, like _he_ was the child being scolded. Honestly, he couldn't really argue with what Duncan had said. 

"Oh. Okay, then yes -" Warren cleared his throat, kicking himself internally. He could have said this over the phone. "Well all of the children get on, he's only recently been acting up." Warren didn't want to ask if something was going on - especially not to this guy. But he should, as a teacher, he should find out if there were any external issues. Things he should look for. 

"He's at that age." 

For the first time in his life, Warren wanted to punch a smile off of someone's face. More specifically, Duncan's face. Instead he sat back in his seat, allowing a frown to spread across his lips. "Well yes, but it-" 

There was the face again.

"Very good. We're all done here, sorry for having you come here."

"I have to pick up my son." 

Warren felt the burn run up his neck and camp in his cheeks. He hoped the blush that usually came with the prickling heat had stayed away. 

"Of course. He's next door." Warren stood up just as Duncan did. 

"I'm sure I'll see you again, Mr Okrasa." Duncan said once he'd reached the door. He opened it slowly, looking over his shoulder with a smile on his face. "Or rather, I hope I do." 

Judging by the smirk that spread across Duncan's face as he left the room, the intense burning in Warren's cheeks had most definitely shown on the surface. 

Great.


End file.
